“Many of us know, I guess, that moment of extreme disappointment when you unwrap a prime steak you’ve been looking forward to, only to be greeted by the putrid smell of gone-off meat. “It makes no sense, I only bought the fucking thing yesterday,” you mutter darkly to yourself. That steak should have been good for another couple of days at least. “How could this have happened? Why did it have to happen to me and why today?” I can’t answer any of those questions—quite frankly, I have my own problems—but that foul whiff of putrefaction reminds of the rancid filth that emanates from the debut record of French four-piece Viande.” Meat tragedy and death woes.
